One Hell of A Summer
by Xarrya
Summary: Fic Prompt from lethally: Someone write me a bass/charlie fic where the blackout didn't happen and when Bass & Miles come back from a tour and Charlie comes back from a year in Uni BAM ATTRACTION but they have to hide because family and age difference.
1. Chapter 1

Charlie Matheson had never been into boys. It was probably why she had such a hard time making girlfriends. She couldn't stand all the drama, the dressing up, or the glorified romance when boys were a bunch of blundering idiots. Sure she had dated a few in high school, even let one woo her, seduce her, and eventually take her virginity but in the end, he was just like all the other boys at their age - immature and stupid. She thought college boys would be better, but they were just as pathetic or worst. With the freedom of being out of the prying eyes of their parents, all they cared about was partying and getting laid.

That is why she was completely thrown off guard when for once she found herself consumed and overloaded with the thoughts of a particular someone from the male gender - but low and behold it wasn't a boy, he was most certainly all man.

Just a week ago she had arrived home from her third year in university to find her uncle Miles and his best friend, Sebastian Monroe, staying at her house. She hadn't seen her uncle in years. In fact she hadn't seen him much her entire life. He was in the Marines and he would be gone on tours for years at a time, only to pop up here and there to say hello. She had heard briefly about his buddy, best friend Monroe, but only that they were inseparable when her father on occasion complained that Monroe had replaced him as Miles's brother. Knowing so little about him or the fact that he would be staying at their house over the summer, it had been quite a shock when Charlie had unexpectedly met him coming out of the shower just seconds after arriving home from university.

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Home. At least that was what it was going to be for one more summer. Charlie thought as she put her old beat up black Honda into park in front of her house. One more year at university and she could move into her own place. Most of her fellow students were nervous as they left for home this summer knowing that soon they would have to abandon the comfort of school and enter the real world. That wasn't Charlie. She was ready for school to be over, ready to be treated like an adult.

She pulled her keys out of the ignition and grabbed a few bags lying next to her in the passenger seat. Her parents wouldn't be home from work yet and knowing Danny he was probably off with some of his lacrosse buddies. She hadn't wanted to come home and unpack with them around - she loved her family, but she wanted some time alone to get things in order before the reunion of hugs and inquiring questions started.

Grabbing as much as she could carry, she headed for the front door fumbling with her key ring to find the one for the house. Magically she was able to shift expertly enough to unlock the door and pull it open without having to set anything down. The house looked the same as it always did, not much had changed over the past three years at university. She hadn't fallen victim to the classic go away for college and have your family totally rearrange the place on you, take over your room, or altogether move to another state. However that might change come fall when Danny made his way to university. She didn't particularly want to think about what her parents would do with an empty nest.

Making her way up the stairs to her room, she heard a noise. Odd. She was pretty sure no one would be home at this time. Shrugging her shoulders she continued up the stairs. Her muscles began to ache under the weight she was carrying. Charlie loved the feeling of straining muscles, that's why she spent most of her free time working out. The feel of pushing her body beyond its limits had an exhilarating high that she thrived on.

When she reached the second floor, her breath had picked up speed but she didn't stop to take a break. She made her way down the hallway noticing the bathroom door was closed. Danny must be home after all, she thought, and passed by it without a second glance. She was just about to turn knob to her own room when she heard the jingling of another and a man's voice call out, "Miles is that you?"

Charlie froze, her whole body locked up at the sound of the unfamiliar deep voice coming from behind the bathroom door. it's wasn't until one of the bags in her hand slipped and fell loudly on the floor that she snapped out of it, but it was too late, almost everything she had been carrying dropped around her creating a sequence of thumping noises as they hit the ground one by one. She heard the bathroom door creak and the sound of feet pattering across the floor. Quickly looking for the bag that would best double as a weapon, she leaned over to pick one up hearing the voice again, "Miles what is god's name..."

Charlie grabbed the bulkiest bag she could see and whipped behind her as she stood up preparing to throw it at the intruder if necessary. Her heart sped up as she found herself gazing upon a glistening muscular bare chest of a man wearing nothing but a towel. A towel that hung low on his hips revealing an etched v and a trail of hair that led down...

Her eyes flickered up to his face, "Who are you? And what the hell are you doing in my house? Taking a shower?" She demanded, although the last question came out softer and with a bit more confusion that she would have liked.

The stranger cast his eyes down to his low hanging towel which gave her a view of the matted wet curls on atop his head. He seemed perfectly unaffected by her threat which oddly assured her that this was just some big misunderstanding. A small laugh escaped his lips as he returned his gaze to her.

"Apologies but this situation we've landed ourselves in is rather hilarious. Don't you think?" he asked, the laughter faded leaving a wide smile in its wake.

She refused to respond, he may think the circumstances were funny but his pure adulterated attraction had her mind distracted. Shoving thoughts of his wet bare skin out, she tried to remind herself to at least keep some level of caution. She still didn't know a thing about this guy except that he was beautiful and if she knew anything about beauty, she knew it didn't come without danger. She raised her eyebrow in response, hoping he would take it as a hint that she was still waiting for an answer from him to her questions.

It did. "Right, too soon," he caught on. "Name's Sebastian Monroe, I'm your uncle Miles friend, and you," he paused taking a step towards her, "you must be Charlotte."

"It's Charlie," she said reflexively ignoring the pleasuring way her disowned name fell from his lips.

"Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He finished, closing the distance between them sticking out his hand to greet her.

So this was Sebastian Monroe, no one ever mentioned how handsome he was, not that she had ever cared enough to inquire. Jesus Charlie, calm down he's the same age as your uncle, he's got to be like twice your age. You're only feeling these things because he's wet and standing very close to you wearing nothing but a towel. Breathe.

She relaxed, letting the pack fall to her side before swinging one of the straps over her shoulder. Only then did she extend her hand and clasp it with his. Immediately her skin burned and tingled upon contact, sending the sensation up her arm and throughout her body. Clearly it was still overreacting. He's just a almost naked man shaking hands with you, she repeated in her head.

"Same," she replied. She had wanted to say something more but she wasn't quite she could manage it at the moment with her body acting out of sorts. Their hands shook together a little longer than necessary, but when parted at last she regrettably missed the contact. She guessed that it just happens sometimes when it's been awhile since the last time you've, well, been with someone.

"So what are you doing here?" She asked crossing her arms over her chest to evade the silent awkwardness that had crept into the air.

"Your uncle and I are staying her for the summer. Your parents didn't tell you? We've been here a week already." He explained with a hint of curiosity.

"No, they didn't. They always forget to tell me things like this," she commented bitterly. Although now that she thought about it, she had purposely ignored a call from them earlier this week, not particularly in the mood to talk. Then later instead of calling them back she had simply texted them that she was busy with finals but she would be home for dinner Friday evening.

"Ah, well, I'm sure they meant to tell you. Things always tend to get busy when the end of the school year rolls around. It becomes a difficult time for communication," he said casually but she couldn't help but notice the small smirk playing on his lips like he was insinuating more than he was saying. "For instance, your parents made it seem like you wouldn't be arriving until later this evening."

"I was, but plans changed. I finished early and decided to head home," she said, the need to escape growing inside her as the look on his face seemed to tell her that he immediately recognized the lie. If he kept this up, whatever he was doing to read and admire her like he was, she was certain she would either attack him like she originally had planned to do or rip that remaining cloth from his body and knock him back against the wall. She needed to get away. "Speaking of which, I better get back to moving all my stuff in. I've still got bags in my car I need to bring inside."

"Of course," he conceded without hesitation. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to talk after you've moved back in and I'm not in a state of dress that could leave me completely naked at any second." He smiled wickedly as he seemed completely aware that his comment practically forced her to picture what was left hidden of his body.

The heat continued to pool in her now aching core while it also slowly rose to her cheeks. Luckily she was able to recognize the feeling before it was too late and leaned over to gather up more of her fallen assortment of luggage sprawled around her feet to hide it. She couldn't remember the last time she'd blushed but then again she couldn't remember the last time she felt any of these feelings he was eliciting in her.

Under the crinkling noise of the plastic bag twisting together under her fingers, she heard the soft pat of his feet exiting probably one of the most bizarre moments of her life - but also one that she didn't think she would ever forget. Her eyes couldn't resist glancing up at his exposed back and lingering once again on the place where the cloth met his skin. It must have slipped slightly during their conversation because she could see the curve of his probably perfectly formed ass. Flashing images of running her fingers over the contours of his chiseled form and sinking her tips into his round hind as she writhed beneath him dashed through her mind.

Distracted by the mental movie playing out in her mind, she forgot that she was still quite blatantly staring at him and their eyes locked briefly before he disappeared into the bathroom. She kicked open the door and threw everything she had in her hands onto the bed. This was going to be one hell of a summer.


	2. Chapter 2

**OH MY GOODNESS. Guys I never would have imagined the response I would get from this fic. That is why it took me so long to update. I was just writing this for a friend and leisure. I totally didn't expect all the followers and the amazing reviews. Anyways, I hope you continue to enjoy it. I'll try and update sooner next time but for now without further to do...**

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She plopped herself down on her bed and laid back amongst the bags to stare up at the white textured ceiling. The mental picture of him remained frozen in her mind's eyes and she couldn't decide whether she wanted to etch it her mind deeper or try and scrap it all together. When she realized that the image was still too raw and clear to ignore, and if she remained still any longer it would only further stimulate her, she brought herself back to her feet and trudged out the door to pick up the rest of the litter she'd left scattered in the hall. What originally had been one trip turned into three as her priorities changed from being about efficiency to more about busying herself longer; but by the end of it, she managed to leave the hallway as clean as she found it.

Finally, she turned to head back down to her car for the rest of her things when she realized in a huffing frustration that throughout this whole ordeal she had lost track of her keys. She began moving and throwing around her luggage all while mumbling swears of "Mother fucking perfect," under her breath.

After a shuffling match, which left her room looking like a disaster zone - oh well, she would have to rearrange everything later anyway- she found her keys in the folds of her sheets. Snatching them up angrily in her fingers, she left the room, careful to shut the door behind her in case a certain person lurking about would be tempted to peek inside. She trucked her way down the stairs and out the front door into the blinding low hanging sun which made her squint and throw her hand up as a visor over her eyes. Turns out she didn't need to worry about Sebastian Monroe sneaking a peek of her room because he was standing right in front of her leaning casually against her Honda.

He still managed to be incredibly sexy even with his clothes on - sporting baggy tan trousers and a low cut white v-neck that clung tight around his muscles. She had been so distracted by the bareness of him before that she hadn't had the time to appreciate his defined abs and the size of his biceps - which were outlined enticingly by the cloth.

"You again," she said deliberately avoiding his name. When he had introduced himself, he had given her his full name but the few times she'd overheard her parents talk about him, they called him Monroe. Calling him Sebastian seemed too intimate and calling him Monroe seemed to imply a history that they didn't share, so she dropped the name altogether and went with the most generic word she could use - you.

"Yes, I am back for a proper introduction, with an appropriate amount of clothes," he smirked while his eyes followed her as she moved from the front steps to the car.

The devious fellow, clearly aware of what he was doing, was leaning back right against the handle to the driver's seat, exactly the door she needed to open to pop open the truck.

"Also I'm here to help," he added.

She was standing right in front of him now and crossing her arms as he continued to stare. His gaze caused her skin to tingle with the way his eyes were drinking her in and it surprised her how much it made her feel sexy rather than uncomfortable. If he was going to continue to play this game with her, she was going to play back.

She raised her eyebrows trying to seem unamused, "Well, you'd be a bit more help if you weren't blocking the driver's seat door."

"Oh, I'm sorry. My apologies," he said but he only moved a hair out of the way - just enough to the side to let the door be opened.

She stepped up to the car and stuck the key in the lock all the while feeling his body heat as he hovered inches from her. The key turned, the locked clicked, and Charlie pulled the driver's door open. She noticed how his arm had fallen along the outline of the door frame and a smile rose on her lips. Oh this was going to be too easy. Quickly she hid her upturned lips by leaning through the threshold into the car, she wouldn't want to ruin the fun now, would she? Deliberately she reached for last bag that remained on the passenger's side. Oh yes, she knew what she was doing, she could feel the bottom of her short tank riding up and exposing a strip of skin of her lower back. Not to mention the cloth of her jeans tightening around her ass as it stuck out from her bending over. She would have known where he was looking even if she didn't feel the heat of his gaze. Fumbling with the bag she took her time, wanting to effect him as much as he was effecting her. She had him right where she wanted him. With the straps laced within her fingertips, she moved backwards slowly, pressing the button that popped open the trunk.

At last she came out of the car, smirking internally upon seeing he hadn't moved an inch from his position. To add one last touch, she threw her head back whipping her hair seductively over one of her shoulders while casually laying the strap of the bag over the other. She glanced up at him and saw that his eyes were still resting lower than they should be. To her surprise he didn't shy away or deny the fact either. His gaze swept slowly up her figure before making eye contact with her.

She held his stare, not ready to let him win without a fight. "My trunk's open. Go make yourself useful and grab a few things," she commanded knowing full well his mind was still lingering on a different trunk.

"Gladly," he complied removing his arm from her vehicle and turning around to head behind the car. Her eyes drifted over his backside as he walked - the way his jeans hugged his ass not escaping her attention. Internally smiling she closed the front door and followed him.

He lifted up the unlatched hood but didn't let go, instead he stared at her packed-to-the-point-of-overflowing trunk and turned to her with amused eyes, "I wouldn't have pegged you as the kind of girl who hauled around so many things."

"Yeah well, " she snuck next to him, her arms brushing against his side as she focused on the task at hand and began picking up various bags to carry inside. "when you have to move out of your house at the end of the year, you have to haul around a lot of things. Trust me, fitting..." at that moment she pulled at a bag that was heavier that she had originally anticipated, causing her to struggle.

"Here let me," he made a move to help her.

"I got it," she argued but he ignored her and effortlessly lifted the heavy pack out of her hands and the trunk slinging the weight over his back with a smile.

Show off, she thought, internally rolled her eyes and blatantly continued on - not stopping to acknowledge his efforts to impress her.

"You were saying?" he prompted her to finish.

Charlie choose the wrong moment to look at him. If she had been paying attention she would have noticed their hands reaching for the same bag, but she wasn't and as soon as her hands wrapped around straps she felt a warm calloused hand cover hers. They broke their eye contact with one another and turned their heads to look down at their almost intertwined hands.

They stood there for a moment entranced by the heat of each other's touch - her hand burning under his. She felt her heart begin to pound - a pulse that she rocked throughout her whole body, it was so loud she was sure he could hear it. Instead of immediately releasing her, he squeezed slightly and caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, causing her breath to involuntarily hitch. She knew she needed to get out of his grasp before he realized how much of the grip he had on her, although she was afraid she was already too late.

Tugging lightly on the bag, she attempted to free herself from his lingering fingertips by pulling it toward her.

"I was saying," she started talking, distracting herself and hopefully him from the attraction she believed they were both feeling, "that fitting everything into my little car is packing lightly." His hand finally dropped from hers as she continued to move the bag in her direction and she finally was able to appropriately position it on herself to carry inside.

"Most students have to have their parents drive out with bigger vehicles or make multiple trips in order to get all their stuff home," she continued as they moment dissipated and the tension started to ease.

"Is that so?" he replied. Both of them now engaged in filling their hands with luggage, however their eyes wandered between the trunk and each other, sometimes catching each other glances.

"Yeah, why do you sound so surprised?" she genuinely asked. "I don't know what kind of girl you think I am but there is a certain amount of things that people need."

"That's a both a bold and naive statement," he gritted through his teeth as picked up the weight of her backpack, "Jesus Christ do you carry this thing on your back every day?"

"Yes." she said proudly and smiled, watching him balance out the weight of her backpack amongst the other luggage he had picked out to carry. "Although normally it's not that packed full."

With that being as much as either of them could carry, she used her elbow to close her trunk for now. There were still a couple things in there but they would get them on their next trip. They made their way to the front door and as she jingled the door handle she turned to him, "What did you mean by what I said being bold and naive?"

"I meant that some people only have what they can carry on their backs," he said looking her directly in the eyes and for a second she thought she saw behind a mask - a vulnerability and hurt that she hadn't expected - but before she could verify what she saw, he strode forward and pushed the door open. The handle slipped out of her grasp and he shuffled passed her into the house, only to press his back against it to hold it open for her. She came through the threshold confused and unsure what exactly had just transpired. As she passed him, she searched his face with a questioning stare but whatever she thought she had seen was gone. There he was smiling at her again. She shook her head. She must have imagined it.

They walked up the stairs in serene silence - all her focus on making sure her load stayed in a balanced state in her hands. There was no need for another embarrassing tumbling of luggage. However, upon reaching her the door to her bedroom, she panicked. She couldn't let him see her room. First of all it was a mess, but more importantly she was afraid it would reveal her age. Not that she was one of those crazed girly girls in high school but she hadn't really done much with the place since she left for university.

"Are we going in?" he asked and she realized she had just been standing there staring at her closed door.

"Um, why don't you just set everything down right here and I'll take it in," she said turning towards him and started setting down her load down on the ground. Jesus Charlie, why do you care so much if he sees your room. It's not like it's that big of deal right. All these emotions, they don't really mean anything. It's just a game, right? As soon as your parents and Miles get here everything is going to go back to normal, so what's the point?

"You're really not going to let me into your room?" he asked with more amusement than annoyance.

"Well it's just really messy in there. Before I had a little trouble finding my keys and it sort of turned into a tornado, not really something you want to see." She tried coming up with an excuse but as the words fell from her mouth she cringed at how unconvincing they sounded. Never in her life had she cared about people seeing how messy she could be.

"I'll let you in on a little secret Charlotte, I happen to like messy. I'm not going to be offended by whatever you think is uncleanly in there especially since it's bound to be messier after we take the luggage inside." He said, his voice huskier sounding than it was before.

As the words sunk in, and the subtly implied, she couldn't help but picture what it would be like making a mess with him - clothes flying across the room, knocking over and against every piece of furniture and surface. It would surely be loud and painfully pleasurable as he would take her with a hot and feverous passion. She would have to hold back her screams and he would whisper, "Charlotte."

"It's Charlie," she reminded him, as the image of the daydream rendezvous faded.

He grinned as he looked away from her, not even bothering to correct himself.

"And fine you caught me, I don't give a rat's ass about the mess but a girl's got to have a few secrets and what goes on behind this door is one of them so if you would be so kind as to set down your load and go get the rest of my things while I move these inside." she took control. Crossing her arms, she watched him set down all his bags, and when everything was on the floor she held his stare as he glanced rather seductively up at her before returning to his full height. He walked through the bags until he was standing close enough for her to feel his body heat.

"Another thing about me," he whispered. "I like a girl who can keep a secret." He slipped his hand over hers and grabbed the keys from her fingers and then he left her with a raging pool of heat heading for her core.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry it's been so long. This chapter did not want to be written. I'm still not satisfied with it but I want to move on so I'm just going to go ahead and post it; it's short, with angst but don't worry next chapter will have more interaction.**

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A pile of clothes towered on Charlie's bed. One at a time she was filing her empty dresser doors and her closet. It had been longer than she expected for Sebastian to come back with the rest of her things. Sebastian, she repeated the name in her head, she still wasn't sure what she should call him: Sebastian, Monroe.

She shook her head. She would think about that later, where was he? There were a variety of scenarios that played out in him mind as to why it was taking him so long, She found she was eagerly awaiting his return. Normally this part of the returning him process - the grueling unpacking bit - involved loud rock music to jam along to but she had neglected it to listen for shuffling in the hallway.

She was hanging up one of her more dress tops, a bold red tank that she was rather fond of despite her usual inclination to dress more casual, when she finally heard soft footsteps and the relieving of bags as they gently hit the floor. A little too hurriedly she strapped the tank on the hanger and hung the top in her closet, making her way through the sea of luggage on the floor. She hadn't really left a path for herself and the task ended up being more difficult than she anticipated.

When she got to the door, she hesitated, feeling a strong pull to throw back her hair and adjust her bra. Ew, did she seriously just think that? An hour back home and a sexy new housemate, and suddenly she was a girly girl, not going to happen. She rolled her eyes at her own brief insanity and slowly started to open the door, prepared to block whatever peeking he would probably attempt to make into her room. However, all that awaited her outside was her luggage, nicely laid out next to her doorway with her keys resting openly on a tall upright suitcase, and disappointment.

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(Moments earlier)

Charlotte Matheson was an astonishing creature; she was beautiful, strong, feisty, and more woman than he had come across in years. The moment he saw her, bag slung over her shoulder, muscles defined, and wearing the determination of a pouncing tiger, he wanted to know her - rip open her flesh and devour every inch of her. There was something about her that instantly dug into his skin and consumed him , and how badly did he want to physically feel her dig her fingernails in his skin. He had never felt such a strong and sexual pull towards anyone, and he would bet his life that it wasn't just a rush fabricated from meeting her whilst only wearing a towel - if he was being honest he had met women in far more compromising positions.

His thoughts were spinning with her toned skin and her commanding voice, and as he shuffled through what luggage was left in her trunk, he had to keep reminding himself that he couldn't drop everything, rush back inside, and take her every which way he could even though he was sure she felt the same way. He had felt the burn of her hand under his and the thudding of heart when they stood close to each other. The was no doubt in his mind that she was having similar thoughts right this moment.

It's not as if she hadn't played along, no that seductress had taunted him, teased him, and even ordered him around - which he found very arousing. But now, here, outside her presence, a slight pocket to reason opened and filled up quickly with one word. Well it was more than a word, it was a name: Miles. What would Miles think about him hitting on his college aged niece? He certainly wouldn't approve. No way in hell, not when he know Miles held a special place in his heart for her. Not to mention, there were rules and standards in this world that didn't exactly condone a relationship of such an age difference. But lastly, and most importantly, what worried him the most was how much had he taken from Miles already and how much their friendship required sacrifices. Right now Miles needed him more than ever.

They had been friends since he could remember, so close that he always seemed like family to him. Practically everything he did involved Miles Matheson, they were an inseparable pair. Even though Monroe knew he had done his fair share of being there for Miles there were times he wondered if he had taken his friend for granted.

To start there had been Emma, beautiful and loving Emma, who was Miles's first serious girlfriend. She was the first one to create a rift between them, a rift that Monroe had kept secret all these years. He could have found his own girl, he had the confidence, he wasn't one of those awkward teenagers, he could have respected his friend and the integrity of his relationship, but he wanted Emma and he wasn't strong enough to resist the temptation. He had kept her company many nights when Miles passed out from too much liquor.

She was so sweet and kind, and accepted him like Miles, put up with him when he was often lurking as the third wheel in their relationship. He fell in love with her in those late hours - the kind of falling in love a boy of his young age could offer, and he had taken and made love to her right under Miles's nose. He had betrayed his best friend and for a brief moment everything sort of fell apart after that. He never quite understood what happened but he couldn't help but feel as it was his fault for screwing things up between them. At first she became incredibility moody, snapping at him out of the blue, running off to the bathroom and coming back pale faced with tear stained eyes. He tried to talk to her but she vehemently avoided being alone with him, always finding some excuse to get away. Then the fights started, they would be over the most mundane things like not getting the right kind of ice cream or taking too much of the blanket while watching a movie. The fights were heated, loud, and never seemed to end with making up.

Finally she just stopped showing up and suddenly Miles was intent on enlisting in the Marines. When he asked Miles what happened, he just told him they broke up. Next thing Monroe knew, they were enlisted and shipped out soon after. He didn't see Emma for a long time after that. When he did see her, years later, he didn't know what to say. He wasn't sorry for what he did but he did feel sorry that he didn't tell Miles about it. He still hadn't even to this day; he knew he took the break up hard even though he tried to hide it. It was that guilty conscience that kept him from ever speaking to Emma again. He had been there for Miles and there were rare moments like today where he felt a weight of his false pretenses and the secret he carried with him. However, Emma was the least of his concerns, life had a way of being cruel and he had his fair share of it in life.

In 2010, he lost his family to a car crash, he lost them to an idiot drunk driver. The meaninglessness of it all drove him into a dark depression, the lowest he had ever been in his life. His entire family gone in a single moment and all he wanted was to stop the pain and join them in darkness or the afterlife. Miles had other plans, convinced him to stay; he told him that he couldn't give up because he was needed, because Miles needed him, and once he had dropped the gun from his head and they had drowned themselves in whiskey Miles revealed to him a secret that let him know he wasn't the only one who was a broken man.

Miles saved his life and became his family and his brother. They clung to each other; Miles clung to avoid the rocky relationship with his real brother while he clung to Miles as a support for every person he ever lost in his life - a number he was unwilling to recount at the moment.

To him, Miles was everything. The only person in his life he hadn't lost. Where everyone else died or disappeared, Miles endured, survived, and never left his side. He owned it to his friend, to his brother, to at least try and hold out. He was here for Miles, to support him and take care of him. Not to mention that he had learned his lesson long ago - everything he touched he destroyed, and he didn't think he could bare it if he destroyed Charlotte Matheson.


End file.
